


Flipping a Switch

by starzinoureyes



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Christmas, Connor Murphy Lives (Dear Evan Hansen), Fluff, Getting Together, Holidays, Love Confessions, M/M, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21816403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starzinoureyes/pseuds/starzinoureyes
Summary: It's the week before winter break, and someone keeps leaving notes in Connor's locker.  It has to be a joke, right?  After all, who would actually take an interest in the school freak?
Relationships: Jared Kleinman/Connor Murphy
Comments: 8
Kudos: 64





	Flipping a Switch

**Author's Note:**

> my brain said kleinphy, and this happened...it was supposed to be short and dumb, and ended up being long and...whatever this is. any mistakes are my own, since this was both written and edited predominantly after midnight because i am a human disaster.

**Monday**

Connor hated the week before Christmas break. For one, it was exam week, and while Connor didn’t particularly care about his grades, teachers tended to be much more strict about lone figures roaming the halls when people were trying to focus on their tests. Plus, he knew that if his parents found out he ditched a final they would make his life even more miserable than it already was.

That was actually the main reason Connor dreaded this week: the end of the semester meant two full weeks stuck at home, nothing to do but lock himself in his room and pretend he didn’t hear his family talking about what a fuck up he was. Connor despised school, but at least here he could just ditch class and read or smoke in peace at his favorite spot behind the cafeteria. 

“Five minutes, Mr. Murphy,” his study hall monitor warned from the doorway of her classroom. Conner gave her the finger as he continued to his locker. It wasn’t like anyone would give him detention so close to the holidays. The teachers didn’t want to be here any more than the students did, and they had more than enough to do with so many exams and papers to grade on a firm deadline. The last thing they were concerned with was one wayward teen.

With a sigh, Connor swiveled the combination to his lock, starting over a couple times as he overshot the second number. When he finally yanked the door open, a small white envelope fell to the floor in front of him. He thought about ignoring it, but the labelling caught his attention. It was his name, spelled out using different magazine letters, like the hostage notes you always see on TV. He was curious as to who would go through that much effort to send him something when they clearly didn’t want anyone to know they had done so. Not that Connor could exactly blame them, whoever it was. Connor probably wouldn’t want people to know he was associating with him either.

The entire note inside was printed in the same way, with letters and words cut out from various magazines and newspapers and Connor couldn’t imagine  _ anyone _ having this kind of free time during finals week.

_ Dear Connor Murphy, _

_ You probably don’t know who I am. That’s okay. I just wanted to brighten up your week with a little holiday treat. We’ve got about a million of these chocolate coins around the house this time of year. If that gives you any clue about who I am. Or not. Either way, I hope you like them. _

_ Sincerely, _ _  
_ _ Your Secret Santa/Admirer _

Connor felt his face flush both from embarrassment at the attention and anger. This had to be a joke. Some sort of sick joke that someone was pulling. He looked around the halls for a group of bullies waiting to taunt him, but no one seemed to be paying him any mind. And sure enough, there on the top shelf of his locker was a little drawstring bag filled with about ten chocolate coins. A menorah was printed on one side of each, and that must have been what the note had been referring to. Someone who celebrated Hanukkah, obviously, but Connor didn’t think that narrowed it down too much. It was a big school, surely a lot of his classmates were Jewish. Not that Connor knew much about anyone he went to school with. Maybe he should’ve been paying closer attention over the years.

A part of Connor--a pretty large part, to be honest--still couldn’t shake the feeling that this was some elaborate prank. A secret admirer? First of all, they’re not twelve. Secret admirers went out of fashion in middle school, Connor had assumed, and either way the thought of someone actually taking a positive interest in  _ him _ of all people was laughable.

He decided not to read too much into it, stuck the note in his bag, pocketed the candy, and trudged towards his biology classroom just as the bell rang. Late again. Oh well. Just another day.

**Tuesday**

Connor’s first exam was at ten-thirty, so he strolled into school at ten-twenty-five and did his best to blend into the throng of students rushing from one final to the next. Connor was in no hurry, though. He meandered in the direction of his locker, keeping his eyes down against the judgmental glares of his classmates. He should be used to it by now, everyone staring at him, but it never failed to make his skin crawl.

The bell rang right as he reached his locker and just like that, the hallway was empty again. Connor would be late for his German exam, but it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t need the whole time anyways, and it wasn’t like he had a vested interest in his grade. He would pass, and that was enough to keep his parents off his back. Another white envelope fluttered to the floor as he opened his locker, and Connor picked it up.

The lettering was the same as yesterday, and now Connor was more than a little confused. He couldn’t think of a single person who would go through this kind of effort for him, even as a prank. And it had to be a prank, right? Some asshole looking for some amusement to end the semester? Some asshole with too much free time, apparently. Seriously, someone needed to tell whoever it was that Connor wasn’t gonna give them the satisfaction of a reaction, so they were just wasting their time. Still, his curiosity kept him from just throwing the note out without reading it.

_ Dear Connor Murphy, _

_ Hope you liked the chocolate! I’m really no good at this, I never know what people actually like. I’ve been told I’m not great at interacting with people. So. I guess that’s your clue for today. Does that count? I say it counts. Anyways, I noticed that the inside of your locker is empty, which is kinda sad no offence, so I thought these might liven things up a bit. _

_ Sincerely, _ _  
_ _ Your Secret Santa/Admirer _

Connor’s eye was caught by the slight splash of color attached to the inside of the door, and his attention was drawn to a little collection of magnets. They didn’t seem to be connected in any way, so it was unlikely they came as a set. Which means that whoever was responsible for this had hand-picked six individual designs that they thought Connor might like.

He had to admit, they were right that the decorations brightened the space significantly. The color he had noticed was the burst of red from a wooden poinsettia--very seasonally appropriate--which was joined by an old sports car, a cartoon hamburger, Darth Vader’s mask, an American flag, and a marijuana leaf with sunglasses. Connor couldn’t help but smile at that last one, especially thinking about how much trouble he could get in if anyone found it in his locker. 

Connor knew better than to get his hopes up, or at least, he should. He had no one. That was just a fact of life. This couldn’t be anything but a joke. An elaborate, well-planned prank by someone who had taken the time to learn exactly which buttons to push in order to hurt Connor the most in the end.

But still. There was a part of him--small, it had to be small--that wondered if maybe this was for real. That maybe there was someone who didn’t think he was a total monster. 

No, that was impossible. Because that didn’t happen to people like Connor. He didn’t deserve it anyways. People didn’t  _ like _ him, not from a distance, and definitely not once they got to know him. And anyone at this school had been around long enough to know that Connor was someone to be avoided. Hated. He was just the freak, right? He didn’t get “secret admirers”. He was going to be disappointed, and he would deserve it for getting his hopes up to begin with.

But that didn’t stop him from walking--now almost ten minutes late--to his German exam with a bit more energy in his step, his mind imagining things he would never allow himself to hope for.

**Wednesday**

Connor rode in to school with Zoe, almost a full half hour before the first exam of the day was scheduled to start. He would never understand his sister’s obsession with getting to school on time; his German teacher had barely said anything yesterday when he’d finally shown up late to the exam. Teachers care about as much as the students do, Connor had learned. They were just paid to fake it a little better. That’s really the only reason he hadn’t been expelled yet, if he was honest. Sometimes Connor wondered how people had put up with his shit for so long.

But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little bit anxious to get to school himself, just to see if anything had been left in his locker yet. He already felt like an idiot for getting so worked up about something that would no doubt take a sharp turn at some point very soon, but that didn’t stop him from holding his breath as he twisted the combination into his locker. He yanked the door open and…

Nothing.

He tried not to be disappointed. He tried to remind himself that it was still early in the day, that the person who had been leaving the notes wasn’t even at school yet, that he didn’t really care that much anyways, but instead he slammed his locker shut and stormed back outside to his usual spot behind the cafeteria and pulled a half-smoked joint from his messenger bag. It was one of those days where he couldn’t give two fucks who saw him light up, his two exams so far to the back of his mind that he might as well not even show up. He actually considered that for a moment, but it wasn’t worth the shit he’d have to take from his parents later. Physics was more interesting when he was stoned, anyways.

Connor didn’t return to his locker until the end of the day, electing to go straight from his physics exam to English so that he was actually early for once in his life. Honestly, the volume of students in the hallways during exam breaks set him on edge, especially as he was starting to come down from his weed-induced high, and he just needed to sit somewhere quiet as he struggled through the day.

Plus, and Connor would probably never admit this to anyone, he didn’t...dislike English. At least, it was the one class where he tended to take pride in his work. Or even do the work to begin with. Some days he would ditch all of his classes except English, just because he didn’t want to miss the class discussion on whatever book they were reading. He never participated, of course, he would just sit in his usual spot in the back and think to himself about how wrong some of his classmates’ analyses were.

So like usual, he was one of the first students done with the test, which meant that he still had almost an hour to wait for Zoe to finish up whatever her last exam of the day was so he could get a ride home and pretend to study for his last three exams. Not that he bothered pretending around his family too much these days, since it didn’t seem to make a difference.

The halls were empty again, just the way Connor liked it as he made his way back to his locker to exchange his books for the ones that he would need for his government exam. He had almost forgotten about the mysterious gifts--or, so he had convinced himself--so he was once again caught off-guard by the envelope that had to be intentionally placed in order to fall in front of him every time he opened his locker. Quickly, he looked around to make sure no one was hiding around the corner, ready for a good laugh at his expense, as he picked up the note from the floor.

The lettering was comical, when he really thought about it. It wasn’t like he would have been able to guess the person based on handwriting, but whoever it was was truly going to the most dramatic lengths to avoid detection. What were they so afraid of? Did they think they’d get picked on too just for associating with the school freak? Or were they worried about how Connor himself would react? Honestly, Connor thought both were valid concerns. He still didn’t know how to react to the gesture.

_ Dear Connor Murphy, _

_ You seemed really disappointed when Mattis said we weren’t going to read Slaughterhouse Five this year, so I thought you might want to read it on your own. You probably have it already, but just in case you don’t. I decided to give it a try and honestly I don’t get it at all, but maybe you’ll have better luck than me. Maybe you could explain it to me? That was dumb, sorry. Unless you wanted to. I don’t know, enjoy, I guess. _

_ Sincerely, _ _  
_ _ Your Secret Santa/Admirer _

Connor wracked his brain, but he could hardly remember that day, if he was honest. It was true that he had always looked forward to reading this one, and he had been more than a little upset when it had been taken off the senior english curriculum, but he didn’t think he had expressed that to anyone. Whoever this was must have been paying close attention to him. Watching him. It should sound creepy. But Connor’s heart sped up a bit at the thought.

No way would someone trying to play a prank on him notice something like that. It was too specific, and months ago. Which meant...

He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t allow himself to even think it. Connor didn’t believe in happy endings, not when it came to himself, at least. This would be no different. It was better not to think too much about it. So he grabbed the book--smooth red cover in mint condition and the spine not yet broken--from the top shelf of his locker and stole away to his spot out back to get started. 

**Thursday**

Connor had a late start again on Thursday, but instead of walking by himself to get there just in time for his gov exam, he wordlessly got in the car with Zoe, ignoring the look of shock on her face as he slumped down in the passenger seat and pulled his headphones over his ears to avoid any chance of questioning. Connor wasn’t necessarily a morning person, but despite what his family assumed he rarely had trouble waking up for school. In fact, some nights he just never fell asleep at all. His spot behind the cafeteria was also good for napping on those days.

Today, he just really wanted to get out of the house as early as possible to read his new book. He’d managed almost half of it yesterday, only putting it down when Larry had screamed up the stairs for him to come down to dinner, and then again around two in the morning when he finally forced himself to get a few hours of sleep before school.

Zoe had barely turned the car off before Connor was out of his seatbelt and slamming the door behind himself without a word. He kept his head down as he bumped past the students flowing through the hallways as he headed straight towards his usual spot, where he intended to spend the next hour and a half immersed in the weird world of Kurt Vonnegut before he had to pretend to care about the actual world he lived in.

It was the bell signalling the end of the first exam period that alerted him of how much time had passed, and for a brief moment Connor considered just skipping his gov exam and finishing the book before he went home, but the counsellor would no doubt call his parents before the end of the day and Connor would never get another moment’s peace. It was almost easier to just go through the motions sometimes.

For a moment, he considered checking his locker to see if the mysterious gift-giver had left anything yet today--not that Connor was looking forward to it, because it really didn’t matter to him in the slightest--but the hallways were already filling up and his desire to  _ not _ wade through the swarm of students between himself and his locker won out over his (casual) curiosity.

Connor turned in his exam less than halfway through the period after half-assing an essay question about the separation of powers or whatever, and his teacher gave him a skeptical look that he returned with an empty glare. He already knew his exam would be shit, he didn’t need her to tell him.

With the halls finally empty, Connor made his way to his locker. He wasn’t intentionally waiting to be alone, it was just a coincidence. It wasn’t that he was paranoid that it was all a joke, because paranoia implied that he had no reason to think that, when in reality it remained the most likely scenario. It wasn’t like he was falling for anything, so he had no reason to worry about people seeing. It was just a coincidence.

Just like the three days before, the white envelope fluttered to the ground when Connor opened the door, and he bent down to pick it up, the wonky lettering becoming comfortingly familiar.

_ Dear Connor Murphy, _

_ So um I realize I haven’t really been giving you clues, which defeats the purpose of the whole Secret Santa thing. Sorry about that. Would you believe that I’m just really nervous about you finding out who I am? I’d settle for you not punching me, honestly. Hopefully you’ve at least been liking the gifts so far. Sorry if this one is lame, but I’ve seen you come back from lunch with Wendy’s a couple times, so at the very least you’ll use it? Anyways, I’ll wait for you here after the last exam tomorrow with your gift. If you don’t want to see me, I understand. I’ll wait until 12:15, but I’ll still leave your last gift in your locker. So. See you tomorrow, maybe. _

_ Sincerely, _ _  
_ _ Your Secret Santa/Admirer _

_ P.S. I’m a guy. I just realized I never mentioned that.  _

There was a Wendy’s gift card right where Connor had come to expect it to be, but he barely noticed the plastic in his hand as he re-read the last line over and over again.

_ I’m a guy. _

For some reason, he hadn’t put much thought into who this person was. He figured that was mostly because he had yet to get past the ‘someone playing a joke on him’ thing, so it had just never occurred to him that anything the notes had suggested about the author were genuine. Given this new information, Connor should have been even more certain that this whole thing was just some asshole--or a group of assholes--trying to get to him.

Because no one knew, right? Connor had never told anyone, and who would he have told? He had no friends, he didn’t talk to his family, he was always very careful to avoid eye contact with, well, everyone. So it had to be a joke, because if this was for real, if someone--some guy--at this school was actually reaching out to him, then that would mean that someone knew. And if one person knew, then anyone could know. Hell,  _ everyone _ could know. Connor was already the school freak, he didn’t need to be the gay school freak too.

Someone in his English class, right? At the very least, it had to be someone in his English class, unless the book was just a shot in the dark. But that couldn’t be, it was too spot-on to be a guess. That narrowed it down to less than thirty people, if only Connor could  _ remember _ a single person in his English class. Right now he was regretting having paid so little attention to his classmates all semester, because he had just over twenty-four hours to either figure it out on his own, or come face-to-face with whoever or whatever would be waiting for him tomorrow.

Connor had a long night ahead of him.

**Friday**

Connor had slept barely three hours last night, which was the exact mental state he wanted to be in for his calculus and economics exams. He had looked through the roster for his English class online, but the names hardly meant anything to him. He had then tried looking each of them up individually on instagram, but hadn’t had any luck there either. He really hadn’t known how little he knew about his classmates until he couldn’t even pick most of them out of the selection of social media profiles with the same name.

Which meant that, in addition to taking his two toughest finals with a foggy head, he was going into...whatever he was going into blind.

By ten o’clock, he had probably failed a calculus exam and still had yet to decide what he was going to do at noon. He had finished Slaughterhouse Five last night and had promptly restarted it, this time with a pencil to take note of things he had missed the first time around. It was a dense book, and he could see how it might be difficult to understand for someone not accustomed to dense literature. But Connor wanted to understand. He could understand books in a way he would never understand the rest of his life.

So that was how he spent the break in between exams, despite not feeling any more prepared for econ than he had for calc (or his other exams that week...no doubt he was setting himself up for an excruciating conversation with his parents when grades were released). This was easy. Or, at least easier than the hundred other things he was trying to avoid thinking about. Or the one other thing he was trying to avoid thinking about.

He still hadn’t made a decision yet at eleven-fifteen when he called it quits on econ, thus finishing the most mediocre finals week in history. He didn’t even pause long enough to gauge his teacher’s reaction when he dropped his exam papers on his desk, shuffling out the door with his head down. 

Instead of going out to his usual spot to read as the clock ticked closer to decision time, Connor decided to take a walk and clear his mind. Or, more likely, give himself an outlet while he proceeded to overthink everything.

He had two options. Or, three options, if he considered just leaving now and throwing away whatever the last gift would be after break. But there was no way Connor was going to make it through the holidays without some sort of closure, which led him to the two options: he could wait until twelve-twenty before checking his locker for the last gift, or he could meet...whoever it was when the bell rang at noon.

The first one would be the easier option, of course. No face-to-face contact, which would give Connor better cover if (when) it turned out that the whole thing was some elaborate joke. It should be a no-brainer. Showing up on time would make him seem eager. Like he had spent the entire week just waiting for this moment. It felt an awful lot like showing up to his own execution, honestly. Like he was just handing his bullies another reason to pick on him. Connor Murphy, school freak who would do anything for anyone who showed the slightest bit of interest in him. Gay.

Objectively, there was absolutely no reason for him to want to meet this person face-to-face.

Except that on the off-chance this wasn’t a prank, Connor didn’t want to push away the one person at this school who maybe didn’t hate him entirely. He hated his mind for even going there, but there was a part of him that had started to picture what could happen if…

He really didn’t want to go there. He shouldn’t go there. But maybe…

No. No, he was being ridiculous. He was barely holding onto his sanity as it was, the last thing he needed to do was give himself another reason to dread going to school.

The bell rang, startling Connor out of his own thoughts as students started pouring from the building, basking in the freedom of winter break. Zoe would be a few minutes at least, no doubt wanting to say goodbye to her friends before leaving, so he continued walking laps around the building for a few minutes, pointedly avoiding eye contact with anyone who got in his way, until suddenly his boots were making contact with the dull tile of the hallways instead of the concrete outside. He was walking towards his locker, he knew it, but he couldn’t seem to make himself stop.

The hallways were already clearing, few students interested in sticking around for longer than necessary. At least there would be fewer people around to witness the impending calamity, Connor reasoned. It was almost twelve-ten, and Connor wondered if maybe he would get lucky, and the person would have just left him alone after all, but when he rounded the corner, there was absolutely a figure standing nervously in front of his locker.

Connor’s blood ran cold when he realized that he recognized the figure.

“What the hell do you want, Kleinman?” he spat, though he knew the answer to that, obviously. He had been right after all, this whole thing had just been another elaborate joke, another reminder that he was a freak, and that no one liked the freak. Jared Kleinman  _ hated _ him, he had made that more than clear over the years. Connor felt like such a fool for showing up at all, for even entertaining the possibility that this could have ended any other way.

He braced himself for the attack, for the snide teasing that he had gotten accustomed to hearing whenever he crossed paths with the other boy, but it never came. Instead, Jared just shoved the little box he’d been holding in Connor’s direction, mumbled an apology, and ran off down the hall, leaving Connor to blink after him in confusion.

He looked around him again, for...what? Someone waiting to jump out and ruin his life? No one was paying him any mind. In fact, of the handful of students still lingering in the hallways, hardly any had even glanced up when Jared ran away. Connor felt the anger drain out of him as his brain finally started to come around to the fact that  _ this was it _ . He turned the small box over in his hands, shaking slightly as he debated on whether to open it here or to wait until he got home. The late bell--the one reminding students to leave the building--made the decision for him and Connor tucked the package into his bag as he went to meet Zoe.

Which brought him to where he was now, locked in his room, sitting at the edge of his bed, examining the little box in his hands. The wrapping job was actually pretty decent, not like it had been professionally done, but like whoever it was--Jared--hadn’t just rushed through it on his way out the door this morning. Connor didn’t know what he was waiting for; this was as much peace as he was going to get, and it wasn’t like anything could surprise him at this point. He already knew who it was, this was just the wrap-up. The closure he had been wanting yesterday.

With a steadying breath, Connor tugged on the ribbon until it came undone. His hands were shaking for some reason, which Connor found absolutely ridiculous. This wasn’t significant, he had to remind himself. This wasn’t a revelation. This was just curiosity, to get some sort of explanation for why Jared Kleinman of all people had been leaving him gifts.

Inside the box was a simple black leather wristband that fastened with a snap. Connor gently ran his fingers over it, taking in the subtle texture worn into the material. He turned it over, and nearly dropped it at the etching on the inside. Faintly, but easy enough to see from up close, was Connor’s name pressed into the leather in simple typewriter font. Connor didn’t even want to think about how much Jared must have spent on this.

Carefully, he wrapped it around his wrist, next to the bracelet he already wore, and tucked it under the sleeve of his sweatshirt to avoid the inevitable questions from his parents, who seemed to make it their business to pick at every single thing he did. He then turned his attention to the folded up piece of paper tucked under where the bracelet had been.

Instead of the usual spliced-together magazine print that Connor had grown accustomed to, this one was hand-written, and Connor took a moment to notice how neat Jared’s handwriting was. Not at all what he would have expected from the other boy, but Connor was starting to realize that maybe he didn’t know anything about Jared at all.

_ Dear Connor Murphy, _

_ So there you have it, huh? Hope the bracelet isn’t too lame or whatever. But I saw it and it made me think of you, which is what started this whole thing, I guess. And sorry if this made you uncomfortable. But it just felt like one of those “now or never” things and I didn’t want it to be never. Even if you just wanted to be friends that would be cool, but I also understand if you want me to leave you alone. My #’s at the bottom of this page if you want to text me sometime. Hope you have a good winter break, and I’ll see you around, I guess. _

_ Sincerely, _ _  
_ _ Jared _

Connor stared blankly at the page. It was...he didn’t know what he had been expecting, to be honest. In fact, this letter sounded pretty similar to the four previous ones. Maybe it was the fact that it was no longer anonymous that made it feel...more, somehow. More than just a random message, more than an anonymous prank, more than…

Holy fuck, this was for real, wasn’t it?

Connor felt his hands go sweaty as he recalled the nervous look on Jared’s face, which had turned to one of resigned sadness as he ran away. That hadn’t been fake, Connor was so sure. That had been by far the most honest display of emotion he had ever seen from the other boy, for once his biting jokes nowhere to be found as Connor read the words over and over. This was Jared at his most vulnerable, and Connor awed at the courage that must have taken. God knows Connor could’ve never.

He opened his bag to retrieve the other letters from the week and spread them on the bed next to him. Each one was short, but it gave Connor a better idea of who Jared was than any of their interactions at school could have. Connor understood that, they were all just trying to survive. He’d never allowed anyone at school to know him, not really, so it came as no surprise that the same could be true for Jared. But here, Jared was offering Connor the opportunity to get close. 

It felt good, Connor realized, that anyone could think him worthy of such a thing. 

He knew what he needed to do, if only he could muster even a fraction of the courage Jared had that past week.

**Saturday**

Connor had never felt more like an idiot in his life.

He had snuck out while his mom was off at pilates and his dad was in the kitchen reading the newspaper, equipped with the forty dollars he managed to scrape together from various sweatshirt pockets and forgotten drawers in his room. Connor knew it wasn’t much, but it wasn’t like he had any ideas to begin with and nothing he could possibly come up with this morning would measure up to everything Jared had done that week. He had to hope that the thought would count for something.

So there he stood, just before noon holding the least-girly bouquet of flowers he could find at the grocery store and a carton of mini blueberry muffins, wondering what the hell he was about to do as he knocked on the Kleinmans’ front door.

It took him about a quarter of a second to realize that he had  _ not _ thought this through. What if Jared didn’t want to see him after all? He should have texted, Jared had given him his number for a reason, why in the world had he thought that showing up at Jared’s house on a Saturday morning was a good idea? And what if Jared’s parents answered? Or a sibling? How the hell would he explain himself? Connor wasn’t the kind of person who was good at talking to...anyone, really. This could go so terribly wrong in so many ways and Connor felt like even more of a loser than usual.

Just as he was about to call it quits and turn around, Connor heard the lock turning from inside the house and a moment later the door swung open, and there stood Jared. He must’ve just rolled out of bed, or at the very least he hadn’t started his day yet, because he was still dressed in sweatpants and a too-big t-shirt, blinking like he was trying to process the existence of the world around him.

Fuck, okay, that was really, really cute.

“Umm, hey,” Connor greeted awkwardly, lifting the hand that was holding the stupid flowers in a half-wave.

“Oh. Hey,” Jared replied carefully, glancing between Connor’s two hands in confusion. Connor didn’t blame him, he was pretty damn confused himself.

“I...uh,” Connor had pretty much reached the end of his plan at this point, if he was honest. For some reason, at no point had he even considered what would happen once Jared was actually standing in front of him, because he hadn’t thought he would even get this far. “Muffins?” is what his brain came up with, and Jared laughed. Not the biting snicker that Connor was used to hearing coupled with one of the other boy’s snide remarks, but an actual, face-crinkling cackle that left Connor a bit breathless.

“So I take it you’re not here to punch me?” Jared said in lieu of an answer, but he stepped to the side and gestured for Connor to follow him inside. The house was quiet, and Connor wondered where everyone could be on a Saturday morning. He also wondered what “everyone” entailed in the Kleinman house; he knew absolutely nothing about Jared’s family, either.

“No, umm...no punching,” Connor answered, a minute too late, probably.

“That’s...good.”

“Yeah.”

Jared led them up to what Connor assumed was his room, before finally taking the muffins and flowers from Connor’s hands.

“Yeah, those are...yeah,” Connor trailed off, standing uncomfortably in the middle of the room as he took in the clutter that was completely unsurprising. It wasn’t the wasteland that Connor’s own room was, but it definitely seemed lived-in. The bed was unmade and definitely looked like Jared had only recently left it, there was a hamper in the corner, but most of Jared’s clothes seemed to just end up on the floor in its general vicinity, and his desk was covered in the remains of what Connor would assume was last minute cramming for exams, though he definitely noticed a few torn up magazines lying around as evidence of Jared’s...project.

“Cool,” Jared replied. He flopped down on the bed and opened the box of muffins before looking up at Connor in amusement. “You can sit down, you know,” he said, and Connor obliged, sitting on the other end of Jared’s bed trying not to make it look like he was maximizing the distance between them. Jared offered him a muffin and Connor accepted, if only because eating gave him an excuse not to say anything for a bit. 

They snacked in silence for a bit, Connor tapping his foot nervously on the floor while Jared looked like he was trying to avoid eye contact without making it seem obvious. It was only slightly comforting that Jared seemed as out of his element as Connor was. Sure, it was nice to know he wasn’t losing his mind, but one of them needed to be the brain in this situation, and Connor was pretty confident that it wouldn’t be him.

Finally, Jared sighed and folded his hands in his lap. Connor noticed him picking at his thumbnails as he talked, and weirdly had to fight the urge to reach over and still him with a touch. “So, I’ve kinda said my bit already,” Jared began, and that was fair. “I just...I don’t want you to think I expect anything, I guess. I just wanted to get it off my chest for myself, more than anything, so you don’t have to worry about letting me down easy. Like, I’m not fragile or any shit like that. I just need you to...talk, or something.”

“I brought you flowers,” Connor pointed out. Jared looked up at him in confusion.

“Yeah, and?”

“Like, aside from how completely dumb and cringy it is, do people usually bring flowers to someone they’re rejecting? Or show up at their house on a Saturday morning, for that matter?”

“Yeah, about that, I was still sleeping, asshole,” Jared huffed, but he didn’t actually seem too upset about it. In fact, Connor thought he might have even seen a hint of pink on the other boy’s cheeks.

“I have a feeling you’ll get over it,” Connor retorted. “Anyways, I’m like...completely awful at everything. Honestly, until you left yesterday I was pretty convinced that this whole thing was some elaborate prank to make my life more of a living hell than it already is. So I guess I’m still trying to...process, or whatever?”

“Yeah, I know I kinda dumped all this on you without any warning--”

“Not that,” Connor interrupted. “Process that there’s actually someone who thinks I’m not just a...freak. Like, that I’m actually worth paying attention to.” 

“You are easily the most interesting person in our whole school,” Jared commented honestly. “Surprised more people don’t pay attention.”

“Well, not everyone can figure out what book I want to read just from something my face apparently did once,” Connor snarked. It came out a little more harshly than he had intended, and Jared flinched, looking away again.

“I hope that was...okay?” he asked. “I know it’s borderline creepy, but I just remember so vividly how relieved everyone was when Mattis took it off the list, but you just looked kind of sad? And I figured you knew something the rest of us didn’t and I got curious.” He shrugged. “I swear I’m not a weirdo. Or, I guess I kinda am, but I’m not...yeah. I dunno. I didn’t mean for it to be weird.”

“More than okay,” Connor assured him, taking extra care to actually sound reassuring. “I already finished it, actually. And I started it again last night. It was...really good call with that one.”

“Oh. Yeah?” Jared smiled hopefully.

Connor nodded in confirmation. “Definitely. Once I finish it this time around, I’ll probably be able to help you with it, if you still wanted?”

Jared blinked in surprise. “I...yeah, that’d be cool,” he smiled shyly, and Connor felt himself return it.

“Cool,” Connor repeated, nodding.

They fell into silence again after that, but it was less uncomfortable this time. Connor realized that that had been the longest conversation they had ever had, and certainly their longest interaction that didn’t end with cruelty. Speaking of which, Connor wondered how long they could go without actually talking about that. Because as much as he’d like nothing more than to forgive and start fresh, he knew that nothing was ever that simple, and the two of them still had a lot of issues to work out.

But that would be for another time, probably, because right now, Connor was focused only on the way Jared played with the bottom hem of his sweatpants, socked feet tucked under him and a look of concentration on his face. Connor wondered what he was thinking about. He wondered when he would be brave enough to ask Jared things like that.

“So you’re...really not mad?” Jared asked hesitantly after another minute of quiet.

“Do I look mad?” Connor asked in return, and Jared glanced up to study his face.

“No? But you’re kinda hard to read, honestly,” Jared told him. “I mean, I’m pretty bad at reading people to begin with, but you’re like…especially hard to read.”

“I dunno, you seem to be doing an okay job so far,” Connor said. Jared eyed him doubtfully.

“You sure you’re not just saying that to be nice?”

“When the hell have I ever done anything just to be nice?”

“Fair point.”

“So.”

“So,” Jared repeated.

“What did you have in mind?” Connor asked.

“Huh?”

Connor gestured between the two of them. “This. Your big plan. What’s the end game?”

“Oh, umm,” Jared stuttered. “I, uh, never actually got that far?” he admitted. Well, that made two of them, then. “Honestly, I was pretty sure you were gonna beat me up or something when you found out, so I tried not to get my hopes up too much.”

“If you really think so little of me, why do you even...like me to begin with?” Connor questioned.

“I think so little of humanity in general, don’t flatter yourself,” Jared scoffed. 

“Wow Kleinman, you really know how to sweet talk a guy,” Connor pretended to swoon, and Jared responded by kicking him in the leg.

“Shut up, before I throw you out,” he warned.

“And it just keeps on coming!”

“Never mind, this is cancelled, you can leave now,” Jared groaned, flopping backwards against the pillow and covering his face dramatically.

“Too bad,” Connor smirked, enjoying the banter. “No take-backs. You’re stuck with me now.”

Jared peeked out from behind his arms. “Really?” he asked carefully, hopefully.

Connor rolled his eyes. “You’re adorable,” he said in response, grinning at Jared’s resulting blush. “Yes, I’m in. Whatever you wanna try, I’m down.”

“We could...get lunch or something?” Jared suggested. “Or stay here and watch a movie. We probably have food. We have muffins.”

“While muffins sound like a very substantial meal,” Connor smirked, and Jared stuck his tongue out at him, “I’m sure we can find something better if you put real clothes on. C’mon,” he instructed, patting Jared’s leg as stood, “my treat. I’ll even buy you ice cream if you’re good.”

“It’s December, you fucking psychopath,” Jared grumbled, but there was no heat behind the insult, and Connor found it safe to laugh.

“I embrace the cold, Jared,” he said, as seriously as he could, though he knew his face was betraying his amusement.

“Like I said,” Jared huffed, rolling his eyes. “Now go wait downstairs. You gotta at least buy me dinner before I’ll take my clothes off in front of you.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Kleinman,” Connor teased, but stepped out so Jared could get dressed.

It felt...weird. Because it didn’t feel weird at all? Chemistry, Connor noted to himself. Somehow, they had chemistry. Connor didn’t think it was possible to interact so effortlessly with another human, even his own family drained him in a matter of minutes, but he suspected that he could spend the rest of the day with Jared, and still look forward to seeing him tomorrow. He wanted to get to know him, to learn about his favorite books and restaurants and movies and his family and friends and hobbies and how he had realized he was into guys and whatever else Jared wanted to share with him. He was practically vibrating. Excitement, that was called excitement. Connor couldn’t remember the last time he had been excited about something.

Until yesterday, Connor had never thought of Jared as someone he could be close to, when he thought of him at all. He had certainly never thought of him as someone he would be interested in. But he had to admit, he was. Very much so. Possibly an embarrassing amount, given the suddenness of his feelings. It was like a switch had been flipped; the Jared Kleinman he knew from school was an ass, but this Jared? Kinda the coolest person Connor had ever met. Not that he was ready to admit that to anyone, much less to Jared himself. He had a reputation.

But he had one hundred percent been telling the truth when he told Jared that he was in. Connor had never done this before--relationships, prolonged human interaction, feelings--but he wanted to try. He wanted so badly to try. 

The sound of footsteps pounding down the stairs snagged Connor’s attention, and he watched in amusement as Jared jumped down the last few steps, landing with an excited thump. His face lit up when he noticed Connor standing there watching them, and dammit if Connor didn’t want to make his face do that all the time.

“Ready?” Jared asked, extending his hand ever so slightly, and indication that Connor could take it if he wanted to, but not pressuring him to do so. He did.

“Ready,” Connor confirmed, giving Jared’s hand a squeeze in return. 

Boy was he ready.

**Author's Note:**

> this was my first attempt at writing for this fandom, so be gentle, but feedback is greatly appreciated! come talk to me on tumblr @starz-in-our-eyes or twitter @starzinoureyes bc i need more people who will talk about this ship


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